


Colors of the World

by Rickthoven



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: Color Fic, I’ll uhh find some when I’m done with it, thanks discord server for making me write again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:02:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15772800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rickthoven/pseuds/Rickthoven
Summary: Color inspired short stories for each member of the Donny Nova Band!





	1. White

_White: the color of snow, simplicity and purity._

 

Wayne watched as the white speckles of snow trickled from the sky, Grady and Emily running outside in glee. He smiled as the children- _his_ children began to play, already trying to build snowmen and throw snowballs. He let the specks of frost fall on his face, closing his eyes and reminiscing over the past few months.

He remembers when his life was much simpler, before the Donny Nova Band came into his life. He remembers how he wanted everything to be spotless, scheduled, simple and clean. He remembered the struggles of trying to raise the kids, the glares he got from them as if he was a stranger in his own home.

Now, he understood. He understood what it meant to be a father and not a lieutenant. He understood what it meant to love the complexity of life, people, and music, to free himself from the restraints of simplicity and play from his heart and not the page. He understood how to love the imperfections of himself and others, to allow people in instead of closing himself off.

“Dad! Come and play with us!” Grady called out, throwing a snowball at Wayne’s chest. Emily giggled joyfully as she threw one at Wayne’s chest as well.

“Okay, okay! I will!” Wayne chuckled, preparing a snowball to throw back at them. “You better watch out then!” He threw the snowball, purposefully missing the two of them and ran over, scooping them up into his arms, kissing them on the cheek. The snow continued to fall, gently and quietly as the sound of laughter echoed throughout the yard.

 

_White: the color of new beginnings._


	2. Yellow

_Yellow: the color of chrysanthemums, optimism and happiness._

 

Johnny sniffed the bright yellow flowers, the smell tugging at long forgotten memories of his past that he still could not remember. The most he could recall from his time at war was the flipping of his Jeep, _three times I’m tellin’ ya_ , with the rest of his memories being a blur.

Johnny remembers the worst of it. He remembers the pain of the accident, _one, two, three fractures of the spine_ , _three operations on his back_ , and the nights he would lie awake in the hospital, confined to a bed with nothing but the empty slate of his mind. He remembers the nights afterward screaming in pain when he forgot to take his pills, the holes he punched in the walls trying so hard to remember _something_ about himself, the frustration of forgetting everything except the _one, two, three flips of the Jeep, one, two, three fractures of the spine, one, two, three operations on his back_. He didn’t want to remember these things, but they were the only memories he couldn’t forget.

He wanted to remember who he was, before the war. He wanted to remember all the details of who he was before the three flips of his Jeep, instead of being told he was a proud soldier and nothing else. He wanted to remember the people he met and will meet, instead of having to forget. He wanted to remember, and nothing else.

Now, his memories consist of the Donny Nova Band, his family, his future, his past, his happiness. He has Julia to talk to, Jimmy to make sure he was taken care of, Davy to make him laugh, Nick to teach him more, Wayne to help perfect his drumming, and Donny to remind him to be optimistic and to keep pushing forward. Most of all, he had memories that he would never forget.

Johnny plucked a single chrysanthemum out of the multitudes of flowers, placing it in his front shirt pocket. He smiled as the smell reminded him of his memories, here and now.

 

_Yellow: the color of remembrance._


	3. Blue

_Blue: the color of the ocean waves, sadness and serenity._

 

Jimmy closed his eyes, the sound of the waves reminding him of his time at sea. He smoked his cigarette as the cold wind of the ocean blew gently towards him. It had been a long time since he last stood near the sea, he could hardly remember when ever since the contest in New York. He just knew that it had been too long.

“Jimmy, do you remember what I told you that night?” He heard a voice ask in the wind.

“Of course I do… You told me that the world is filled with sadness… and that I should be the one that reminds the world to keep faith in everything good…” Jimmy took a puff of his cigarette, his face expressionless.

“And do you remember what you said to me?”

“I said… I said… that I promise to live my life to the fullest for that future. For us. All of us. Army, Navy, Marine, Air Force… _us_ …” Jimmy could feel his tears forming now, the cold wind blowing harder than before.

“You don’t need to worry anymore, my love… everything will be alright... _Je t'aimerai pour toujours..._ ”

“ _Rien ne dure éternellement mon amour_ …” Jimmy turned to face the voice, but was met with the cold breeze of the wind. “ _Rien ne dure éternellement…_ ”

Jimmy’s cigarette burned out, and he was left by himself, the wind being his only companion. His tears streaked down his face and were blown off by the wind, as if it were trying to wipe away his tears and dry his eyes.

Jimmy removed his glasses, a reminder of him when he first met him that night, holding them gently along with his dog tags. “Aaron…” The wind died down at his name. He knew why he kept seeing him whenever he came to the sea. He knew he would have to move on for the both of them. But he was going to do it one step at a time. He let the sounds of the waves wash over him and the winds blow around him, each of the sounds a reminder of his lost love.

 

_Blue: the color of healing, tranquility, and understanding._


	4. Green

_ Green: the color of spring, growth and peacefulness.  _

 

Julia visited his grave, a tombstone in a field of grass, underneath a lone oak tree. It had been years since Michael had passed away, but every year she would return to his grave, a special spot that she picked out. 

Under this lone oak tree, she had met and had fallen in love with him. Under this lone oak tree, he had proposed to her. Under this lone oak tree was his grave. She laid flowers on the grave: pink carnations, tea roses and a single full bloom rose, a message to him.  _ Michael would have understood what they meant, he always did. _

“We went to New York, you know. First class Pullman Cars, Grand Central Station, all of it. You would have loved it Michael.” Julia smiled, tears forming in her eyes as she began to recall all of the things that had happened over those few months. “Donny’s watching over me now, you know. Like you asked him to.”

“Did you know that this was going to happen, Michael?” Julia asked to the tombstone. She immediately dismissed the thought.  _ Of course not. _

Julia sat underneath the oak tree and closed her eyes, letting the leaves fall gently to the ground as the spring breeze flowed by. She could see him in her mind, the man she fell in love with so long ago, before everything changed with a simple telegram. She used to dream about seeing his face again, that maybe one day she would see him come down the street, even though she knew that she never could. 

Now she dreams of her future, with Donny, with the band, with the spirit of Michael that lives on in all of them. Davy, with Michael’s sense of humor, Jimmy, with Michael’s sharp intellect, Johnny, with Michael’s joy, Wayne, with Michael’s precision in actions, Nick, with Michael’s passion to stand out, and Donny, with Michael’s ambition. And Julia herself, with Michael’s hopefulness.

She smiles as she places one last flower on Michael’s grave before leaving: a single sweet pea.

 

_ Green: the color of hope, adventure and renewal. _


	5. Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely long wait! College has been taking over my free time to write but now with a break I can finally continue to produce some content for y’all! Enjoy :)

_Orange: the color of whiskey and sunsets, confidence and cheerfulness._

 

Davy stood in his kitchen, drink in his hand, the rain rhythmically tapping against the windows, the liquor helping keeping his past at bay, though still being ever present, like the changing of the seasons. The leaves of the trees began to bloom again, spring returning, similar to long ago.

He knew he would never be able to forget the things he saw: the naked, dead, starved bodies buried underneath the pale white snow, the burned bodies of hundreds in the camps, or the thousands of dead bodies on the death trains. He understood that those images would keep him company for the rest of his life.

But still, he drank. He drank spirits to keep those spirits that haunt him at a distance, and hid his pain behind feigned smiles and artificial laughs. He drank the memories away, drank constantly to ensure that those memories would be forgotten in the bitter taste of alcohol.

The sounds of the rain began to fade away, the light shower passing away quickly as it came, the sunset beginning to show. He understood that it was different now, now that he had Donny, Julia, Jimmy, Nick, Wayne, and Johnny. He knew that he didn’t have to hide behind his facade anymore, that he could change like the seasons, that he could maybe begin to live with his past, starting with one less drink. He placed his glass of whiskey down on the kitchen table, turning to watch the sunset as he said to himself,

“I owe it to myself to try.”

 

_Orange: the color of recovery._


	6. Purple

_Purple: the color of lavenders, ambition and honor._

 

Donny laid the flowers onto the grave, the purple bringing life and color to the green field and the old oak tree. He closed his eyes, something he rarely did before the contest, before Julia, before coming back home from the war.

Before, closing his eyes would mean reliving it all over again: the muddy field, the gunshots, _the explosion_. He would see it happen, over and over again, each time resulting in him screaming out to Michael, each time seeing him for the last time. Before, he lived his own war everytime he slept, and he knew that he couldn’t change the outcome, no matter how hard he tried.

Now, he came to accept that fact, came to accept that everything happens, like the changing of the seasons, that it will always be a constant, that what matters is what he does now and hereafter.

“Hey Donny! Are you ready to go?”

Donny opened his eyes, turning to the voices of the band.

“I’ll be there in a little bit! I just need to finish up some last few things.” Donny replied.

He turned back to the tombstone, wiping away the dirt that built up over the last year. He read the inscription as he finished clearing off the dirt:

_Michael Trojan: Brave Soldier, Loving Husband, and Wonderful Friend._

He knows it will take time to fully come to terms to everything, but he knows that no matter where he goes, he’ll have Michael with him along the way.

He pulled out the worn drumsticks in his back pocket, placing them next to the lavenders.

“We did it Michael.”

 

_Purple: the color of peace._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost home free, with finals being half over now! That means I can start being active again! And also, wow, this set is almost over! Thanks for all y’all for coming along to this ride with me as a new writer!


End file.
